


Two Genius Superheroes

by VanessaWolfsbane



Series: Worlds Aligned Crossover Series [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse, Iron Man (Comic), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Flirty Dick, M/M, Paparazzi, Pretend sex, Reveal, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaWolfsbane/pseuds/VanessaWolfsbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two gorgeous, genius billionaire superheroes walk into a party...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The cave was dark, the only light being that of the enormous computer screen flickering with incoming data and criminal profiles. The hum of the console mingled with the occasional fluttering of the bats and tapping on the keyboard. Leaning back in his chair, Bruce Wayne rested his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers, contemplating the information before him.

"Ahem." Bruce quickly spun his chair around to face his butler. Alfred was in his pajamas, yet his thinning hair was combed and his demeanor was as formal as ever. Slight bags beneath his eyes indicated that he hadn't gotten more than a couple hours of sleep. All this Bruce took in subconsciously, his conscious mind still processing data and patterns. "Master Bruce, a letter has just arrived for you." Bruce raised a thick dark eyebrow and checked his ridiculously expensive watch. 4:02am.

"I didn't know mailmen had night shifts." Bruce accepted the offered envelope, studying it with a well-trained eye.  _Bruce Wayne. Wayne Manor. Gotham City, New Jersey._ No stamp. No return address.

"I don't believe they do, sir." Bruce grunted and slipped the letter into a scanner, eyes skimming the computer screen as new information popped up. No fingerprints, no chemical residue, no metal, no radioactivity, no anomalies of any kind. Just a regular letter. Too clean. Warily, Bruce removed the envelope from the scanner and slid a fingernail under the flap. No powders, no gasses. He slipped out the sheet of paper, reading the handwritten letter with uncontainable curiosity.

 

_Mr. Bruce Wayne,_

_You are hereby invited to the best damn party ever thrown. Stark Tower, North Building, Manhattan, Friday night at 9. We both know Brucie doesn't miss a good party._

_I'm looking forward to meeting the legend himself. Feel free to bring a bird if you like, there'll be plenty of chicks already there._

_Bring your favorite suit. I know I'll bring mine._

_Tony Stark_

Bruce reread the letter five times, unsure if all of the references were simply coincidences, which he didn't believe in; his so-called paranoia; or an indication of knowledge on Mr. Stark's part. Of course, Bruce knew that Tony Stark was Iron Man. What kind of detective would he be if he missed that? But had Mr. Stark figured out Bruce's secret? He supposed there was only one way to find out. New York City was nice that time of year. And besides, Brucie doesn't miss a good party.

–

"Sweet! Tony Stark! He's like a less intimidating you!" Dick crowed, strapping himself into his seat as the private plane prepared to take off. A young blonde stewardess in a shockingly short skirt winked at them as she pushed a cart of refreshments past their plush seats, presumably to set up their in-flight meal at the dining table. Bruce shot the teenager a distracted glare before returning his attention to his smartphone.

"This isn't for fun, Dick." Dick pulled a face and slumped down in his seat.

"'The best damn party ever thrown.' Gee, could've fooled me. Only you could turn a party into a mission, Bruce."

–

Bruce and Dick stepped out of the limo with charming smiles already in place. They waved cheerfully for the flashing cameras, stopping to shake hands and kiss cheeks with familiar faces in the paparazzi.

"I'm going straight for Stark; you try to grease some pockets for the Foundation, make some new friends. But remember, New York is new territory. Try not to step on any toes." All of this was said from the corner of Bruce's mouth as he and Dick posed for a tabloid photographer. The camera flashed and Dick rapidly blinked the spots from his vision.

"Sure, give me the dirty work," Dick grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. His cheeks were aching from the forced grin by the time they finally made it to the door and went their separate ways.

–

The party was loud, some popular indie band blaring through the speakers and shaking the building. The lobby of the business tower had somehow been transformed into a dance hall. A bar lined one wall of the room, ten bartenders mixing drinks for guests who had yet to get a buzz going. Tables scattered the rest of the perimeter, and the center of the room became a makeshift dance floor. Most of the party-goers were already wasted and grinding shamelessly against each other.

"Bruce Wayne!" Tony Stark shouted over the thumping bass, striding across the room with an outstretched hand. His Armani suit was impeccable, a dark blue that made his eyes pop, but his tie was loosened around his neck and a small lipstick smear on his collar tattled on his previous activities. Inky black hair was slicked back and his beard was neatly trimmed.

"Tony Stark!" Bruce returned merrily, 'playboy' smile planted firmly on his face as he grasped the hand and shook vigorously. Bruce was wearing a charcoal Calvin Klein suit, the jacket unbuttoned and conspicuously missing a tie. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone and his hair was slightly mussed. All of this had been carefully arranged ahead of time.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Wayne," Tony enthused. His sparkling eyes raked over the fellow billionaire with a sort of hunger.

"Likewise Mr. Stark." Tony grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder, steering Bruce deeper into the improvised ballroom, weaving his way through the hordes of people dancing and drinking.

"Please, call me Tony." Tony swiped two drinks from a passing tray and handed one to Bruce, fingers brushing his knuckles lightly.

"Only if you call me Bruce."

–

It was only half an hour in and Dick was utterly bored. And frustrated. Every time he went for a drink, he got carded. Old enough to die for his country (with his guardian's permission), but too young for a martini. Figured. Everybody at the party was plastered. Well, almost everybody. But Bruce and Tony were doing a damn good job of faking it: leaning against each other, giggling, whispering in each others' ears, stumbling slightly as they walked. Dick could see chemistry between them and smiled. Bruce had finally found an equal.

At last Dick spotted a boy about his age, standing awkwardly in a corner with both hands wrapped around a champagne flute. Breathing a sigh of relief, Dick rushed toward the stranger, praying that the conversation would be more interesting than his previous attempts at small talk with hammered supermodels.

"Dick Grayson," he introduced with a polite bow of his head, leaning against the wall beside the young man. The boy blinked up at him.

"Wait, Dick Grayson as in-" Dick cut him off, waving one hand in the air in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah, Dick Grayson as in Bruce Wayne's ward." The other man took a sip of his drink, bright hazel eyes dancing over the rim of his glass.

"Well, I was gonna say 'Dick Grayson, as in the Flying Graysons,' but I guess your way works too." Dick's eyes widened before he gave the man a curious glance, noting the tousled brown hair, cheap suit and expensive looking camera around his neck.

"Who are you?" The other boy shot him a secretive smile before looking down into his glass of what appeared to be champagne. Dick knew better. No way the guy was twenty-one.

"Just a man with a new-found appreciation for swinging from ropes." Dick contemplated this for a minute. He had never actually seen the pictures, but he'd read the file. And they were in New York, his territory. Dick grinned and held out a hand.

"Peter Parker, amiright?" Peter looked up, startled, and shook Dick's hand apprehensively.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Dick raised an eyebrow at the camera, lips twitching in amusement.

"I've seen your stuff in the Bugle. It's good work. Can't be easy to get such good pictures of a man who climbs walls." Peter blushed and looked back down at his drink.

"Well everyone has their secrets." Dick smiled and glanced over at Tony and Bruce, who were slowly, subtly, making their way toward the elevators.

"Yes, everyone."

–

Bruce laughed and pretended to take a sip of his drink, purposefully ignoring the arm still wrapped around his shoulder. The warm weight was surprisingly comforting.

"But enough about me," Tony chuckled, squeezing Bruce's bicep. "Tell me about you." Bruce smiled easily, swaying a bit to the music as they staggered around the room.

"There's not much about me you can't read in the papers, Tony." Tony laughed loudly before he leaned in close, cupping one hand at the side of his mouth and whispering in Bruce's ear.

"One gorgeous, genius billionaire superhero to another, that's ginger ale. You can drink it." Bruce's lips twitched down slightly before the fake playboy smile was back on his face.

"Thanks, that was sweet of you." Tony grinned and leaned in to whisper in his ear again.

"Between us though, there's one thing I just couldn't understand." Bruce raised an eyebrow at the other man. Tony jerked his head toward the far wall and breathed, "Why'd you get the kid involved?" Bruce's smile froze in place, his eye twitching, before he spoke through unmoving lips.

"I don't think this is the time or place for such a discussion,  _Mr. Stark_." Bruce glanced around discreetly and spotted the elevators, subtly changing their direction to lead them there. They stumbled through the crowd, putting on quite a show of sloppy smiles and near-falls.

"Well y'know this building has a lot of floors," Stark slurred, waggling his eyebrows. Bruce smirked and stopped them in front of the elevators, turning to face the other man, whose arm slid down to encircle his waist.

"We might as well pay Spider-Man's bills while we're starting rumors," Bruce whispered, stepping closer so the two were chest to chest. Tony's eye's flickered across the room to where Peter was scanning the crowd through his camera lens. Grinning, Tony wrapped his other arm around Bruce's waist, tugging his hips flush against his own.

"Mmm, saving the world, one broke superhero photographer at a time." Bruce leaned down and captured Tony's lips with his own, bringing his hands up to tangle in his dark hair and deepening the kiss. He could always blame the booze.

–

"Oh my god!" Peter cried, almost dropping his camera. Dick jerked his head around and followed Peter's line of sight, eyes finally landing on the lip-locked heroes. Dick grinned and crossed his arms over his chest, slouching against the wall.

"Quick, snap a picture while it's still PG." Peter hurried to comply, fumbling with the camera for a second before the telltale flash indicated his success. A moment later, Tony's hand slid down to grope Bruce's ass, and Peter snapped another picture, if only to assure himself that he wasn't imagining it.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce shoved Tony through the first open door he found on the fifth floor of Stark Tower. Stumbling in, Tony brushed himself off and sank comfortably into a chair to watch Bruce with a bemused smile. Bruce locked the door behind himself and turned to study the room. A large mahogany desk, a state-of-the-art computer, a desk phone, two guest chairs, a mini fridge, a few questionable stains on the carpet, a couple of family photos. A fairly ordinary personal office.

"Is this room secure?" Bruce demanded, rifling through the desk drawers for any possible recording devices. Tony pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and then nodded. All pretenses gone, Bruce sighed through his nose and dropped into the unoccupied guest chair. "How did you find out?" Tony beamed and sat up straight.

"So you admit it? Honestly I was expecting faux confusion, or maybe even an outright denial."

"I considered it," Bruce grimaced. "But I figured since you outed yourself I might as well return the favor, since you already knew anyway." Tony closed his eyes and leaned his head back with a smug smile.

"It wasn't all that hard to figure out, really. I mean, since we're pretty much the same I knew what to look for. Your gear had to be expensive, so you needed access to large amounts of money and contacts with highly advanced technology; you had to have had some trauma -most likely childhood- with a criminal; you needed close contact with a boy around Dick's age, maybe a nephew or son; and you needed lots of training, which as far as I can figure came in during your little world tour during your younger years." Bruce winced and slipped off his jacket.

"And here I thought this whole 'Brucie' charade would keep this from happening." Tony opened one eye to look at Bruce, face suddenly serious.

"Oh it almost did, and probably would have, except we both had the same idea with that, so I knew it could very easily be total bullshit. Well, maybe partial bullshit on my part." Unbuttoning his cufflinks, Bruce sighed sarcastically.

"Well there's a relief." Tony smirked and tugged his tie free, shoving it in his jacket pocket.

"So how long have you known mine?" Bruce chuckled with genuine amusement as he pushed up his sleeves.

"I've had a file on you since Iron Man went public. I knew your identity about a week later." Tony's face was caught somewhere between a grimace and impressed.

"That obvious? Or maybe I've just underestimated you." Tony's eyes raked over Bruce again, this time in a more calculating manner. Bruce tensed, but forced himself not to react to the scrutiny. Finally Tony shook his head and simpered. "Anyway, back to my question. Why'd you bring the kid in on it?" Bruce's jaw clenched almost imperceptibly.

"I didn't have much of a choice. I took Dick in as my ward, but he was never meant to be involved. He went out on his own to track his parents' killer, so to keep him safe I helped him. After that, there was no stopping him. I figured he was better off with some training and me looking out for him, so Robin was born." Tony nodded thoughtfully and shrugged off his jacket.

"Well I guess it was unavoidable once you took the poor kid in. I'll do you a favor and not ask why you did that." Bruce shot Tony a grateful look. "So," Tony grinned and leaned forward, forearms on his knees. "Which can I see first? The car or the suit?"

"The car is in the Cave back in Gotham, but I always bring a suit. It's at the hotel." Tony's grin widened and he stood. He quickly ran a hand through his neat hair, ruffling it, and crumbled his jacket into a ball before putting it back on. Bruce unbuttoned his shirt and rebuttoned it incorrectly before mussing his hair even further. He copied Tony's jacket trick, but left his sleeves pushed up when he slipped it on. Satisfied that they both looked like sex warmed over, the two exited the room.

"You know the press is gonna have a field day with this," Tony mumbled as they stepped into the elevator.

"I know." As they descended, Tony glanced at Bruce from the corner of his eye.

"Whaddya say we give Peter one more money shot?" A small, knowing smile graced Bruce's features as the doors slid open. Tony wrapped an arm around his waist and they stumbled out, leaning heavily against each other. Tony sloppily kissed his way down Bruce's neck while they staggered toward the door. Only Bruce noticed that their show was in vain. Peter was thoroughly preoccupied. As was Dick.

–

Peter sat at one of the tables surrounding the dance floor, staring incredulously at his camera. Dick lounged across from him, a cheese platter between the two and a crowd of semi-conscious, intoxicated assholes dancing off to their side.

"Do you seriously think they're gonna do it? I mean, I know they're drunk, and notoriously promiscuous, but I didn't even know they swung that way!" Peter cried. Dick rested his chin on his palm, elbow on the table, and bit his tongue. He knew that Bruce wouldn't do anything with Tony. At least, not right away, and certainly not at the party. Bruce was classier than that. But he couldn't very well tell Pete that. Peter was technically a member of the press, and Bruce had a reputation that he needed to preserve to protect his secret identity. Instead, Dick did what was required of him as Robin and defended his mentor the only way he could: by insulting him.

"Bruce is an equal opportunity manwhore." Peter blinked, then continued staring at the picture of the kissing men.

"I get how they could go for it though. They're both very handsome men. But still! They only knew each other for like an hour!" Dick raised an eyebrow and popped a cheese cube in his mouth.

"You swing that way, Pete?" Peter blinked again, his cheeks tinting pink in the dim lighting.

"What?"

"You heard me." Dick grinned. "Do you swing that way? Ya know, bat for the other team? Do you like guys, Peter?" Peter's eyes flickered down to the picture before he looked back up at Dick.

"Well...I dunno...not really. I mean...I like girls...I guess some guys are good looking...but I don't really...I mean I never tried...I wouldn't know if I'd...no. No I don't swing that way." Dick smirked and slowly placed another cheese cube on his tongue, curling his tongue around it and watching as Peter's eyes widened.

"Nothin to be ashamed of. Lotsa guys like other guys." Peter quickly returned his gaze to his camera, fiddling with some settings to avoid looking at Dick.

"I don't swing that way."

"Right," Dick drawled. "And I was raised on a farm in Kansas."

"Low crop yield this year," Peter muttered. Laughing, Dick reached across the table and plucked the camera from Peter's hands.

"Hey!" Peter shouted, stretching his arm out and grasping for his stolen camera. "Give that back!" Dick held the camera in the air and smirked.

"Not 'til you kiss me." Peter stared, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"You heard me," Dick said. "You can't have this back 'til you kiss me. You just teased the crap out of me, getting my hopes up like that and then slamming the closet door in my face." Peter blushed madly, refusing to meet Dick's eyes.

"C'mon Dick, just gimme back my camera. J.J.'ll have my ass if I don't get him some good pics, and that kissing shot oughta get me a good check." Dick tossed the camera back and forth between his hands, watching the anxiety dance across Peter's face.

"You know how to get it back." Dick pretended to miss, fumbling the camera, and Peter's eyes widened.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Peter leaned across the table and pressed his lips roughly against Dick's, one hand tugging on his tie to pull him forward. Dick kissed him back immediately, moving his lips slowly against Peter's before tugging his lower lip into his mouth and sucking gently. Peter moaned then quickly jerked away, snatching his camera back as he went. Leaning back, Dick licked his lips and smirked.

"So Pete, you swing that way?" Peter picked at a cheese cube, pulverizing it between the fingers of one hand, his other clutching his camera to his chest.

"No," Peter mumbled, his face a startling shade of scarlet.

"Right," Dick drawled. "And I'm a flying man from Krypton."

"Great deal on capes at Macy's," Peter muttered.

"C'mon! You can't say you didn't enjoy that!" Dick argued. "I heard you moan!" Peter's blush deepened.

"That was...involuntary."

"Well you can't say that about the kiss!" Dick accused.

"What are you talking about? You stole my camera!" Peter exclaimed, abandoning the cheese cube to clutch his treasure with both hands. Dick rolled his eyes.

"Oh please! We both know you could've gotten it back in a split second if you really wanted to!"

"What?" Peter squeaked, his voice climbing an octave.

"You could've easily taken the camera from me. You wanted to kiss me, so I gave you a reason to." Dick smiled smugly when Peter's jaw dropped. "You're bi, deal with it. I've been dealing with it for years."

"I-" Peter swallowed and cleared his throat. "I'm bi. Okay. So I'm bi now too. Great. The list just keeps on growing."

"That's the spirit!" Dick chirped. Dick's phone vibrated in his pocket and he held up a finger to Peter as he fished it out. He had a new text message from Bruce.  _'Took Stark to the hotel. Be in your room by 2. Have fun with Parker. Remember, safety first.'_  Dick chuckled and typed out a quick  _'Yes sir. Try to actually get some sleep tonight.'_  before slipping his phone back in his pocket.

"Who was that?" Peter asked casually.

"Oh, just Bruce." Dick popped another cheese cube in his mouth and stood. "You got plans tomorrow morning?"

"No..." Peter said slowly, suspiciously, standing as well.

"Good, c'mon. We got three hours to kill and this party blows."


End file.
